


Nightcall

by shadeofwrong



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: 80s flashback, Gen, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4403963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadeofwrong/pseuds/shadeofwrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Galahad make a routine field excursion, but things go wrong. They both act in different ways to make it right again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightcall

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted to do a pairing fic based on the quote “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” I haven't written these two on my own yet and far more of them needs to exist in this world, so here you go. It's set pre-canon, probably late 80s, definitely young spy babies learning how to save the world. Also my first time writing from Merlin's perspective, which was an interesting task. ENJOY.

Explosions sounded different underwater. Merlin learned that firsthand in demolitions training, but on the field, the stark contrast became much more apparent. Instead of air splitting in half followed by the roar of flames, the water of the Adriatic Sea rippled like a popping bubble magnified by the thousands. Fire above the waves from the crumbling boat behind him and Galahad lit their way back to shore, though the force of the blast threw them to the mercy of the tide.

  
The water had been calmer when they infiltrated the boat an hour earlier-- approximately 0400 hours, he remembered. Galahad was to take out the threats on the starboard side while Merlin handled the port. They would then meet in the shipping hold to handle their main objective: detonate the boat's shipment of illegal arms bound ultimately for Zagreb.

  
Camouflaged in dark wetsuits and with night vision goggles leading their way through the water and up the hull, the two Kingsman agents silently boarded the ship without incident. The armed guard on deck dwindled one by one as they made their way to the rendezvous, where they finally met with a curveball. More guards had been set up in the hold, more than two agents could handle safely. They lingered on the deck, measuring their options, when Galahad suggested they set their cache of C4 to detonate when the hatch opened, instead of the timer they had planned. It would reduce their safety cushion they wanted to create between them and the ship before the explosives went off, but in his typical reckless fashion, Galahad didn't see that as much of a problem. Merlin couldn't make the calculations off the cuff, but despite the distance from their planned drop point, the force of the C4 would probably still be enough to light up the whole supply of weapons below. Without any safer options, they set to their improvisation. Galahad molded the putty over the lock on the hatch while Merlin connected it to a tripwire. As he waited for the tiny buzz of it going live, Galahad unscrewed the suppressor from his handgun. When Merlin finished with the trap, Galahad fired off random shots into the air to alert the men below, and as soon as the last bullet left the chamber, they flew like wraiths across the deck and dove back into the chilled waters of the Adriatic.

Now Merlin cursed the whole idea as he spun around in the water, the scraps of steel from the body of the ship raining down around him like heavy shrapnel. They served as a reminder of which way led up, at the very least, and Merlin did his best to right himself accordingly. He clenched his jaw so tightly that his teeth threatened to crack his breathing apparatus. His head didn't stop spinning when he did, but Merlin still whipped it around in search of Galahad in the murk. Strong arms suddenly wrapped around him from above. His first instinct told him to elbow his attacker, but in his frantic bid to regain control and find his partner, he failed to notice the large chunk of the ship's hull bearing down on him. When it smacked into the water, Merlin turned just in time to see Galahad take the brunt of the blow.

It knocked them both deeper, and Merlin blinked away the stars in his eyes as the surface grew farther away. Galahad's grip on him loosened, and judging by his deadweight, passed out on top of him. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin watched Galahad's breathing apparatus sink into the deep, having been knocked right out of his partner's mouth. Merlin quickly hitched the belt of Galahad's wetsuit to his own and kicked at the debris until it shifted enough for him to swim upward again. Galahad sagged at the middle and Merlin's muscles screamed in protest as he tore through the water. His hands reached hungrily for the surface, even with flaming bits of wreckage still falling past him. When he broke out into the open air of the early morning, the shore sat blessedly close, a kilometer at best. He worked to keep Galahad's head above water, still clenching the apparatus between his teeth.

The extra weight doubled the time it normally took Merlin to cover this distance. Dawn cracked over the horizon once he got past the breakers, and from there he let the waves beach them. The peeking sun and the now distant glow of the fiery ship gave him just enough light to remove his nightvision goggles and navigate in the deep blue of the morning. He dragged Galahad to dry shore and when he unhooked him from his belt, Merlin nearly collapsed on top of him. His own breath ragged, Merlin leaned his ear over Galahad's face to listen for any signs of life. His heart hammered faster when nothing sounded over the crash of the waves. Merlin peeled back the hood of Galahad's wetsuit and pulled off his night vision goggles. A splotch of blood matted the agent's hair, where the debris knocked him senseless. A shallow cut and a growing bruise, but not the immediate problem. Merlin spat away his breathing apparatus and almost growled at him. 

"Come on, Galahad. Not today."

Merlin's voice came out harsh, frustrated-- like he'd been inconvenienced. It didn't match the panic freezing his spine. He pressed two fingers to Galahad's neck, searching for a pulse. His own spiked when he found it, faint but steady. He could fix this.

  
Merlin got up onto his knees and inhaled deeply. The taste of sea salt scalded the back of his throat, but he couldn't afford to be breathless now. He placed his hands over Galahad and started to compress his chest, doing his best to avoid his fellow agent's ribs. The last thing he needed was a punctured lung. Merlin timed it, but as fast as everything seemed to go wrong, the ten seconds he spent pumping his friend's chest crawled by. He checked Galahad's pulse again. Still there, but barely a difference. 

“Don't you fucking dare--” Another sluggish ten seconds as he pumped against Galahad's heart. “--Harry. You get up.” Merlin wasn't even supposed to be here. He stopped field work months ago, but this called for someone with demolitions experience. The only other Kingsman with as much insight as Merlin into blowing things up was Tristan, and he was buried in deep cover in Moscow. Merlin and Galahad always worked well together, so the team up seemed like the natural conclusion. Harry dying to save him, on the other hand, couldn't be part of that. He hated deviating from the game plan, and Kingsman casualties certainly had no place on it. 

Merlin noticed his breath had become ragged again, and something stung his eyes-- the sea breeze, more than likely. He ignored the fact that the trees on the edge of the shore didn't budge. Merlin pinched Harry's nose shut and kept one hand on his chest. He steadied his breath again and leaned down to press his mouth to Harry's. Merlin tightly pressed their lips together so no air could escape between them and breathed deep into Harry's lungs. Under his hand, Harry's chest rose, and Merlin bolted upright as if something shocked him. He let go of Harry's nose and joined his hands together to push down once more, and this time, a round of spluttering coughs followed as Harry gagged up the sea water he swallowed. Relief hit Merlin so hard that he fell back against the sand and dragged his hands down his face. 

“--Last time. The last time I listen to one of your bloody brilliant ideas.” 

Harry looked up at the brightening sky with a dazed expression and concentrated on breathing again until it made him wince. 

“Christ, Merlin.” He coughed and tried to sit up, but only managed to prop himself up on his elbows with a grimace. “I hope you didn't pop the dummy in training.” 

“You're an idiot.” Merlin sat up more successfully and glared at Harry, but it was difficult to keep a straight face in a situation like this, where he couldn't decide if he wanted to throttle Harry or embrace him. As always, he managed. Either way, he puts a hand on Harry's back to help him sit up.“Why didn't you get out of the way?”

“No time. Not with you there, and we couldn't both get hit, could we?”

Merlin didn't reply. As much as he could argue, as much as the success of a mission should be their priority above all else, he couldn't pretend that he wouldn't have done the same thing. He sighed and looked out at the sea. The sun rose halfway above the horizon now, and the ship's fire shrank as it fell deeper into the water. 

“Don't make me do that again.” 

Harry smirked, probably held in some comment about how his ribs wouldn't let him forget it, and silently watched the sun rise with him.

 


End file.
